“Both.”

“Yeah. I’m not surprised.”

“Have you been getting any sleep?”

“Sure. Plenty.”

“You are lying, Rowan. I can hear in your voice that you are exhausted.”

“Listen, Helen,” I said. “I didn’t call to talk about me. How’s Felicity doing?”

“She is holding her own at the moment,” she replied. “She has good moments and bad. Right now she is in a mild depressive state, but that is to be expected under the circumstances.”

“Has she had any more of the episodes?”

Episode was the only generic term I could muster for what I meant. Helen had actually witnessed Felicity under the control of Miranda before I left for New Orleans, so she knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Fortunately, no.”

“Good.”

“Is there a reason she might have?”

“I’m not sure…” I allowed my voice to trail off for a moment. “All I can say is that I think I might have riled up the Lwa just a bit.”

“How so?”

“I can’t really get into any details at the moment. Let’s just say Miranda and I had an encounter.”

“You found her?”

“Not physically, no, but…” I left the alternative unspoken.

Helen sighed and a fresh measure of concern threaded into her voice, “Rowan, you do realize that you are making my case for me. You are not going to do Felicity any good if you manage to lose touch with yourself in the process.”

“I know that, Helen.”

“You need to be careful.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“I know you too well. You are there alone, and you do not have anyone to stop you from taking unnecessary risks.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I suppose you do know me. Well, I am. Being careful, that is.”

“I hope you are correct, however, I suspect that what you perceive as being careful is a far cry from fact.”

“You don’t have to mother me. I know what I’m doing,” I returned, even though I wasn’t sure I believed the statement myself. Rather than allow it to go any further, however, I changed the subject. “So, like I said, I called about Felicity. Not me. Is there any chance I could speak to her?”